Walking home alone in Bucharest

In Bucharest, Romania a few nights before going to Bran,Transylvania for the Horror Writers Workshop, I left my dinner group at the beer hall, and walked back to my hotel alone so I could make some photos. I definitely prefer my Olympus DSL for night shots but the Canon Powershot 530 provided well enough. I feel the curse of Gypsies in the last shot, the fiddler near my hotel. He shook his head for me to stop photographing him and I stopped, reluctantly. I didn’t realize the woman pulling the child and cursing me was the same one as in the photo until I worked through my shots back in my room. She followed me and was deadly serious with her ever-so-quiet tongue in a language I barely understand. But her tone was direct and her glare pushed forward all the venom it could collect as she steadily strode toward me, gaining on me until I had to turn around and notice her. I gave it right back at her with a hearty look of offence more powerful than the defence I felt. And I meant it just as much as she did. Our locked and loaded eyes were our common language. I don’t know what she was saying but I silently warned her, “You’d better not if you know what’s good for you.” She backed off and turned away as I stood facing her, ready for confrontation. So far so good.

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